


Aphasia

by orphan_account



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Dom Lisa Cuddy, F/M, Light BDSM, Pegging, Sub Greg House, house being a fecking brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 19:49:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21325690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: 18+ ONLY. DO NOT READ OR OTHERWISE INTERACT WITH MY CONTENT IF YOURE UNDER 18.Don't fuck with Cuddy. Unless you're House, in which case you can probably get away with it.
Relationships: Lisa Cuddy/Greg House
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	Aphasia

“You're a brat.”

The whites of House's eyes are already slightly glassy, at least the half she can still see beneath his closing lids. Cuddy's always struck by how soft his hair is, when it looks like it really shouldn't be; shouldn't be so easy to run her fingers through, twisting occasionally when the itch to hear that little gasp of pain becomes overwhelming.

And it so often does. _Tug, gasp_. Delicious. She hadn't expected him to like pain, not when he lives with so much of it every day. But it turns out House likes a lot of things Cuddy never expected. Looking so blissed out with his lips wrapped around the plastic cock strapped to her hips wasn't so high on the list, either. Yet here they are.

“Deeper,” she whispers. “Earn it.”

House shudders as he bobs his head lower, hands idly stroking her thighs. It's a bit of a chore for her, to sit back against the pillows as he lays on his front before her and works hard for it. Even when she's dying to get him on his back and fuck him blind, it's better when she builds up the anticipation; heightens the sense that she's in charge. It makes him just that little more pliable.

As House makes a divine gagging sound, she hides her arousal with a smirk. “I like you much better like this,” she murmurs. “Finally, some peace and quiet. And you look adorable.”

His eyes snap open then and he glares, just for a moment, before he releases a muffled sigh and loses himself in his task again. Cuddy wasn't lying, not completely: she does like him like this. Not because he can't answer back, not because he's an especially squishy brand of putty in her hands right now. But because he's letting go. Enjoying himself.

“See? You can be a good boy when you want to be.” She runs her fingernails across his face, scratching lightly at his stubble, and he practically purrs. “It's just a shame that you so rarely _do_ want to be. I see I'm going to have to work hard to change that.”

House's fingers clench aimlessly around her thighs, a shuddery exhale escaping his nostrils. His taste for being talked down to? She can't explain why, but that didn't surprise her at all. 

“Stop.”

He does, immediately, his lips wet and slightly swollen from the friction. “Is this really a ploy to get me to behave?” he demands, as if he needs to negate his obedience. “Because this is a crappy deterrent.”

Cuddy just narrows her eyes at him, slapping the dildo lightly against his lips. “No more talking. Obnoxious little brats don't get fucked.”

That's a lie. That's definitely a complete lie. House could screw with her all day, refuse to do a damn thing she said and answer back until she wanted to dropkick him across the hospital. But she'd still do this to him. It's just too irresistible, to watch his eyes roll back in his head as she hits his prostate. To hear him whimper with the pleasure he can barely stand as she orders him to stroke his own cock. To feel his hands holding hers so gently, communicating through touch the genuine gratitude that his insecurities and hang-ups won't let him vocalise: _thank you for taking it all away for a while. Thank you for showing me I can trust you. Thank you for taking control._

She imagines he gets something similar from giving it up that she gets from taking it: peace.

When House is lying down, head on the pillows, she's careful to take her time smearing lube around his hole, teasing at his entrance with her fingers. She watches him with a half smile on her face, as he presses his lips together and bucks his hips for more. Eventually, he glares and moans, “don't _do_ that.”

“Don't do what?” As she slips a finger inside him, he jerks and sighs, his lower lip quivering. She runs a hand over his abdomen, evoking a shiver of desire as she adds, “do you want something?”

He growls a little at that, and Cuddy twitches her lips, daring him to carry on. He opts for an impatient whine instead before snapping, “you _know_ what I want.”

“Then...” She eases in another finger, watching him suck in a ragged breath, “ask nicely.”

House raises a hand, and it lands limply on her shoulder as he arches his back into her touch. When his arousal builds, his resolve weakens, but he can never resist pushing it a little further. His eyes gleam as he drawls, “Please, Mistress. Make me into your nasty little bitch.”

Cuddy shakes her head, grinning as she grabs hold of his jaw between thumb and forefinger. She doesn't miss the way his eyes flutter a little at the gesture, the quick sinking of his teeth into his lip. “You really are a fucking brat. Ask again without the sarcasm.”

House hesitates a moment, and Cuddy can see him weighing it up; his desire to misbehave with the knowledge that doing so will delay things, even though he's fully aware that Cuddy can't bear to deny him altogether. He flicks his tongue across his lips before murmuring, “please fuck me, Lisa.”

She smiles, leaning over him to press a lingering, soft kiss to his mouth; skims her lips across his face to rest at his ear. “Good boy.”

And House moans at that, because he wants to be a good boy really.

As Cuddy presses the head of the dildo to his entrance, House's hand grasps for hers. She interweaves their fingers before whispering, “remember. No talking. Just feeling.”

He scowls, but she can tell he's not as committed to it anymore. He almost seems to force himself to say, “For my benefit, or yours?”

“Both.”

She pushes into him slowly, feeling his grip tighten on her hand as he whines softly for her. She gasps too as the harness tightens between her legs, at the added pressure on her aching clit. She's been so busy attending to House that she's barely considered how aroused she is. Having him like this, naked and openly vulnerable, _needing_ her, is never anything less than exhilarating.

Once she's fully sheathed within him, Cuddy pauses for a moment to run her fingertips across his chest, to softly tweak a nipple, to smile down at him as she considers everything it's taken to get them here. All the drama, all the fights, all the games. And now, these moments, when they're completely alone, when nothing can touch them. Nothing could possibly interfere with how pure and faultless this particular connection of theirs is.

Then House wriggles beneath her, releasing a needy whine. “Goddamnit!”

“Hey!” She's still smiling as she leans down over him, brushing her lips against his chin. “Shut up.”

He's demanding for a couple more minutes, and she berates him to little avail, as she works up a steady rhythm inside him; but then, after a few failed attempts at building sentences, he's finally quiet. Instead, he throws his arms around her shoulders and pulls her in close, moaning into her neck, and she allows it briefly just to feel his hot breath on the tender flesh there before grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head. He doesn't protest, doesn't try to squirm away as she showers his exposed throat with little nips when he throws his head back in abandon; doesn't cheekily lick at her lips when she captures his mouth in a ferocious kiss, but instead returns it with a contrasting softness so rare for him. The harness strap creates friction against her clit with every thrust, until she's nearing climax, mumbling a string of “good boy”'s and other gentle praises into House's ear as he arches to meet her thrusts and chases his own release. When she quietly commands him to look at her, he obeys, and his eyes are devoid of anything but pure, uninhibited pleasure.

It's the only thing that really keeps him quiet. It's perfect, really; Cuddy gets to shut off House's mouth, while House gets to shut off his head.


End file.
